The Xenoc Tablets: The Potterverse
by Almentoe
Summary: This is a time travel high sci-fi story, set partly in the Potterverse. A mathematician's musings on magic. Warnings: implicit sex, some OOC, a very very dark story. Voldemort is deified, his domain includes the former British Empire, Harry is executed. How did it get like this? Why is everyone obsessed with a red drawer? Expanded summary/tags/warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a time travel high sci-fi story, set partly in the Potterverse. A mathematician's musings on magic. Warnings: implicit sex, some OOC, a very very dark story._

 _The year is 502 AI (Anno Imperii), Lord Voldemort is a god, he controls all of the former British Empire and more._

 _The Planet Eldor is long dead, perhaps the inhabitants were to blame?_

 _What are all those weird aliens up to anyway?_

 _What is the immortal Nicolas Flamel doing with his time?_

 _What kind of person is Harry Potter?_

 _Why do "gods" seem so lazy?_

 **The warnings:**

 **Sex: sex exists and sometimes I do it, I don't care to write about it explicitly.**

 **OOC: Time does funny things to minds, sometimes I write about different timelines.**

 **Morality: I write about very different cultures and times, some of their practices will appear distasteful to some in the audience. There will be non-graphic descriptions of immoral acts. We're talking Hitler-level stuff here, guys/gals. I will of course give more specific warnings for each chapter that deals with such material: effects of rape, effects of incest and child abuse, genocide and the horrors of war, serial killers (the minds of psychopaths), starvation and intense poverty, the horrors of mind control and insanity.**

 **None of the acts are given in explicit detail: but I will explore some very dark concepts.**

 **You have been warned, this story will be very dark at times, I am forcing no one to read this.**

 **Disclaimer:**

 **The following is true: I do not own any of the rights to Harry Potter or of the Legacy of Kain series. Further I do not own the rights to Star Trek, nor of any of Arthur C Clarkes' work. It would be foolish indeed to assume I own the rights to Lord of the Rings.**

 **I make absolutely no money from interweaving others' ideas. It should stay this way. This is merely an exercise in creativity; my own ideas should be obvious from the text.**

 **I use both Open Office and my fingers to write this. My greatest thanks are reserved for the programmers/creators.**

Introduction, (0,0). Incognitos.

The sky cries on the planet Eldor. The clouds tumble and and burn. In the centre of the maelstrom lies the Eye of God. It is always watching. The slaves trudge away for glory of God. Twisted visages glance out at the fire in the sky. They do as their master commands.

The Monuments are epic structures built from the suffering of all things, they are towering buildings. They bring war to many worlds. Gigantic Warpgates.

Introduction, (1,0). 502 AI. 314/366.23…

Lord Voldemort is diefied. Over time he became less human, and more… Divine.

The sky cries. Tumbling and burning like white hot fire; flashes of lightning illuminate all. Lord Voldemort was mortal once. Long ago. Few know the truth: he was a boy; then he was an adolescent, striving for power; a man be became, some power was his. Now he is a "God", he is a deity with far sight.

Londinium, is the heart of The Empire, a palace for Voldemort's most loyal Death Eaters. It is a huge pyramid-like structure. Upon the flat top, The Dark Mark is embroidered. The Mark can be seen from space.

The surrounding area used to be called London. A better name for it now would be "Cesspit"; the rotting corpse of the British Empire.

Within Londinium there is a chamber. Within this chamber is The Mass, partly the centre of his government, and partly a space-twisting cannon; designed by the mad genius of Voldemort. He would have surely won a Nobel Prize for the achievement; had he not turned Scandinavia into a breeding ground for Dementors.

Today Harry Potter is a dead man.

He lies the below a great machine; both political, and physical: The Mass. It is his executioner. The Mass is a glorious piece of engineering; articulated pincers twitch, manipulating the power of life: Magic.

Harry lies in chains; a block of True Iron. It suffuses his mind, breaking his connection to Mana. The Block was specifically designed to hold him, there is a divot only for his face. He can see his doom approach him; a gigantic pulsating crystal amidst the loving embrace of the arms of The Mass.

Introduction, (2,0). Godric's Hollow, October 31, 1981. Twilight.

Albus: Tom, it's over.

Tom's nostrils flair and his hood twitches; Albus Dumbledore is a worthy opponent.

Tom: You could have been great…

Tom whirls around, his robes flickering in the heavy air; heavy with great things.

Albus moves with fluidity, conjuring a green whip of fire.

The whip cracks against a purple dome, desperately brought up by Tom.

The dome fractures, but Riddle is cunning: shards of the shield rip through the air.

The bullets fly at Dumbledore, a sonic boom reverberates through the village.

Albus drops to the floor, small orbs drop from the back of his robes.

Tom: Haha!

The orbs float above the ground. Tom is taken aback. The orbs pulsate.

Albus (from the ground): I have taken the great pleasure in depriving you of certain liberties...

Albus' tone is deadly. He rises to his feet.

Tom: No… It cannot be.

Albus: It is time to put you down. _Heil, mein Übermensch!_

Introduction, (3,0). Incognitos.

Harry awoke in the dark. He remembered little of what happened. His eyes slowly adjust. His world is a dark place.

His eyes dart around the room, slowly he makes out a window, a dark figure stands at the threshold; observing the grounds. Harry opens his mouth to speak. It must be Master.

"Good" The figure smacks his lips. "You're awake."

The figure slowly turns, like the spring in a clock. His face is shrouded in the dark of his hood. Harry feels heavy. The spectre looks into his eyes. "You have suffered a great deal."

Introduction, (4,0). Incognitos.

Nicolas Flamel sits at his desk; it is made of white marble. The drawers were eroded over eons; they and the desk are one. Magic is an odd business.

The alchemist sat back in thought. His hand reached for a drawer, it opened at his gesture. Many papers littered the softly lit surface of the marble desk. Numerous alchemical writings and papers, and tables of the properties of plants. Nicholas' hand slowly withdrew from the drawer, revealing a pipe: a long gnarled piece of oak.

Nicolas' eyes gazed absently at the door; wood lived. At the wall; stone never lived. He closed his eyes; I live. He softly smiled…

Philosophical masturbation; oh how he adored it. Perhaps…

Chapter One, (3,1). Incognitos.

"You have suffered a great deal" said Albus, with a grimace. His eyes looked up and down Harry's comatose form, he then took a step forward.

"How are you alive?" Harry ground out, his tongue felt heavy. Sedated.

"I am not the man you think I am." 'Albus' slowly turned, on a foot, back to the window. "I am no one. Not any more..." he trailed off, looking morose.

Harry struggled to stay conscious. His world is pain, more so now than ever before. He could not move.

"We're not really... here..." The figure spoke. His eyes looked over the grounds, at the blue grass, and the twilit trees. The sun was low in the sky, and pure white against the backdrop of space. "But that doesn't mean that this isn't real…" he paused, glancing back at Harry.

"I don't understand" Harry slurred. His eyes drooped. He is paralysed and broken, his mind drifted in and out: "Nor do I" the figure said honestly. "I am a part of you... ...you will remember more... ...you will not want to remember more..." He turned to perch on the windowsill. "...I will keep that which will only burden you. I love you."

Chapter One, (0,1). Incognitos.

A sibilant whisper pierces the air in a dead language: The Blade… The whispers continue, too numerous for any human to pick apart.

Eldor is a dead world, the sky was torched long ago, it is a husk and no life grows here. Eldor used to be beautiful, tall gleaming crystalline towers covered the world. Eldor was majestic, everywhere you could see the stars. Long ago there was a war between two sentient species: ones who could use the Mana; the Eldar, and ones who could not; the Trueirons.

The Eldar were vastly intelligent, and essentially immortal; they renewed their bodies periodically, mutating. When physical death occurred, the Eldar distributed their knowledge among their number.

The Eldar were masters at subterfuge, the Trueirons rarely ate them, even if they could be found.

Eldar were always few in number, and lived far apart; they sucked in Mana and sustenance from the world around them. Too many in one spot would cause problems.

They could also siphon off Mana from other creatures, they would gain some traits of the victim. The Eldar generally found the practice distasteful. But there were some who partook in the activity.

Reproduction was done telepathically; they would ensure that the next generation would be optimal for the predicted future; they would pick new physical forms from the smorgasbord of evolved traits. New consciousnesses would emerge from time to time: in line with the carrying capacity of the planet. The new consciousnesses, would again, gain traits from the population as a whole.

The Trueirons were immune to all but the truly powerful, or truly "maline", Mana, they could eat Mana for sustenance, reproduced in vast numbers, and lived in hives; they were selected based off colony strength. They built vast machines; very industrious creatures.

What happened to Eldor? Maybe the Trueirons destroyed the titan planet? They had had little regard for the environment, they lived short lives, and were hardy creatures. Perhaps it was the Eldar who destroyed the world? Their wisdom meant little in the face of unyielding malice...

Much has been lost to the sands of time.

 **NB: For those confused by the story, and the formatting of it: I am a mathematician. This is a story about many different things and I am also making it up as I go along. If anyone has questions, I am very happy to give mysterious riddles as answers. If you have ideas, then you're welcome to talk about them in the comments, who doesn't like a discussion?**

 **On my weird interpretation of grammar: yes, I do need grammar lessons, and this chapter should be updated once I learn the proper structure. I really have no excuse: English is my birth language.**

 **The weird Cartesian coordinate system I use for the different parts: it will become very necessary later (this story will get a little nutty, because I'm a little nutty). Remember that numbers aren't always whole... and sometimes they're "fictitious".**

 **Only the battle scenes are written in pseudo-script format. I believe it is the best way to describe such fast-paced things. But I'll let the reader/ff decide.**

 **Update: in my createlust (a word I just made up) I forgot to expand the summary! Fixed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 **Disclaimer:** See the Disclaimer in Chapter One. Recursion is cool.

 **Warnings:**

 **Contemporary war imagery, insanity and fascism (If there's a difference).**

Are you a Tinker? Tailor? Soldier? Spy?…

Yes you are a Taylor.

How does one understand the Fabric?

We start small. And so do you!

You make a start. It's enough.

Oh my! Now it gets tough!

But if you know how it moves.

Then we can prove.

That the Fabric.

Was just thread all along.

-Eldon, The Journal of Paleomathematics: Earth, volume 500,353. Published on Eldar in the Time of the Selmica.

Chapter two (1.5,2). 40 AI 12/366.23... . Übermensch occupied France, the Paris Line.

General Weasley is an old man, still alive in the fortieth year of Voldemort's Empire; 40 Anno Imperii. Old men do not belong in a trench. The sides leaked, and all the bread was mouldy; life as usual on the Paris Front. The smell of body odor and decaying flesh was potent.

Voldemort's forces had made great advances in recent days, his Lord's Necroconstructs were being slowly beaten back by the Deatheater Starforts: they'd have to send more Lodestoners into the flying fortresses; suicide bombers always made the Deatheaters go mad.

Ron kept his nose out of politics, he wanted a quiet life, and he wore the Magi-star brand with no pride. He always did his duty, even when he was told to do unspeakable evil. _Heil Übermensch_ indeed…

In another life, Ron would have a loving wife and many children. Both are impossible for a general of the Magi-star Liberation Army.

Ron slowly got to his feet, ducking below the trenchline to avoid any AK-snipers looking to snag a promotion. He kept his head low until he reached the Bastion, if he remembered the old film reels, it was where something called an Affle tower used to reside.

Once inside the Bastion, he stood. He received a few salutes: " _Heil_ _Général d'armée!"_ , his face remained stoic. His reputation on the Russian Front preceded him. He apparated to the Überreich in Rome. He had some big news that the Übermensch would need to hear.

Chapter Two. (2,2), -20 AI, 305/366.23…, Dawn. Flammel's office.

Perhaps… Nicolas was interrupted from his early morning musings by a dull thumping at the bottom of his door. His morning was about to get more interesting! He flicked his fingers, and a figure in a dark hooded cloak fell through the opened door, badly burnt, almost charred. How interesting! Maybe he could experiment with his new ointment? He remained sitting, why waste a perfectly good morning on a wastrel? He returned to his papers, his wife would sort it out.

Some time passed, the sun rose in the sky by a thumbslength. The cloaked man moaned. He glanced up, this one would be a bother… "Young man?" Nicolas' voice croaked, he hadn't talked in… ... he didn't remember, must be on a piece of paper! The prone figure shifted. Oh that is interesting, thought Flamel; he only has one limb! He was bleeding onto the carpet, very interesting patterns! He seemed to have cauterised his stumps, very clever!

"Nicolas… You have to help me..." The figure on the floor ground out, he was missing most of his teeth, and most of his face. He coughed up some coagulated blood onto Nicolas' threadbare carpet.

Nicolas cleared his throat "Who're you?" Nicolas asked, confused. "Are you that Albin chap? He likes to make potions, something about the seventeen uses of dragon's blood or something, I think th-" He was cut off by "-Nicolas..." Tom ground out harshly.

Chapter Two. (4+i,2), -20 AI, 305/366.23…, Dawn. Flammel's office.

Perhaps… Nicolas was interrupted from his early morning musings by a dull thumping at the bottom of his door. His morning was about to get more interesting! He flicked his fingers, the door opened; he saw a dead pigeon on the floor. Nicolas' face fell. It was Speckle Jim! Awful things always happened after Halloween. He went back to his papers, and blew a few smoke rings with his pipe.

Chapter Two. (4,2), -20 AI, 305/366.23…, Dawn. Flammel's office.

Perhaps… Nicolas was interrupted from his early morning musings by a dull thumping at the bottom of his chamber door. His morning was about to get more interesting! He flicked his fingers, the door opened; he saw a dead white speckled pigeon on the threshold. Nicolas' face-

Then he had a funny feeling go up his spine; the same one he felt a few times a century, and his pipe fell out of his grip clattering to the stone floor. He sat up very quickly, the cobwebs connecting his beard to the desk elongated and his knees protested at the mistreatment. How long had be been sitting there? Something was very very wrong with Mother Time.

Time is very interesting you see, there are many strands, only the very old and wise wizards like himself could interpret the flows, it was so interesting he even wrote a few pap- Something red appeared in the corner of his eye. He halted his musings, and glanced at a red draw that had appeared on the left side of his desk. He vaguely knew what that meant: stop thinking about it, and maybe open the draw?

Chapter Two, (0,2). Trinity.

The Eye surveyed the slaves, productivity was up; the Eye went back to watching an errant air current in one of the Furnaces, she fixed it. Boring.

God saw the bigger ones hammering away with their True Iron tools at a bolt on the 'gates, it was good. It went on to calculate how many more hammer blows would be needed to affix the bolt without detonation, and the rate of decay of the True Iron deposits below the Titan World. It was good.

The Dhark felt a slight flicker of annoyance. A small creature descended from "rats" residing on a small blue-green planet had disturbed the Fabric. The "rats" would be dealt with. He glanced at a complete Warpgate, and imagined maline things.

Chapter Two, (?,2), -1 AI 314/366.23. pre-Terran Space, above earth.

In orbit around a small blue-green planet there is an oblong shiny object. The occupants of the planet would use the word "sword" to describe it. Perhaps they would get closer to the truth of this object if they were not so hung up on symbols to describe their thoughts? The edge of the "blade" is rainbow coloured: the edge is so sharp it causes light to split and diffract. One of the very odd things about this object is that it is _not_ made out of True Iron.

A fleck of paint leftover from an old attempt at getting former apes into space slammed into the blade; and changed the fate of galaxy forever.

 **NB: So we've learnt more about the crazy Cartesian system; I suggest looking up complex numbers if you're interested. And if you're feeling as nutty as me, imaginary time. More has been revealed of the weird world I created in my head.**

 **My (rhetorical) question to the reader: why does that weird** **366.23 figure keep popping up? I'm sure I wrote it down somewhere!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See the previous Disclaimer for more instuctions.**

 **Warnings:**

 **Mentions of fascistic homophobia.**

 **Mentions of old style physical/unethical mental patient treatments.**

 **Chapter Three**

When I sit still, I see the fluidity of nature. I see the air, the water, the treacle.

I see these things flow, people flow too, ideas bouncing off one another.

When I look at people. They are like a fluid. They are separated from one another in only physicality.

Oh Euler, you could see these things. There are many of us. You see our connections. You do not care what a person does.

Oh Neumann, you see them as individuals. You watch each person individually. You then wonder. What will they do? They are acted on by many forces.

When I move. I see more. I imagine what it is to chase a beam of light.

And what I see troubles me. My mind did not evolve to comprehend this!

But when I imagine what another person sees. I realise what is relative and what is constant.

It is time and space which are relative. The speed at which light goes is your yardstick.

Oh Einstein, you knew this. You saw how space and time flow.

Like a fluid…

But if it is like a fluid. Who are the individuals? The particles?

You are unknown. Anonymous.

If we can understand you. Then we may understand the mind of God.

-Eldon, The Journal of Paleomathematics: Earth, volume 500,355. Published on Eldar in the Time of Quiet Things.

Chapter Three, (3,4). Somewhere on Earth. Date unknown.

Harry awoke feeling refreshed, despite his surroundings; a dirty smelly dustbin spewed its contents on the grass above his head, and it was bitterly cold, the grass was frozen, his breath came out as mist. He lay on a bench in a park and there was a divot digging into his back; designed to deter people like him. But Harry didn't care, he now had a purpose, and a friend. The ghost of Albus was still with him, he was wandering around the park, trying to get their barrings. He thought back to the odd initial interactions he had with the spectre.

" _...I love you..."_

 _Harry stared at the weird man, in his delirious state, he saw the spectre's eyes flash many colours. "Erm, I don't think..." the spectre looked at him sharply "Oh Harry, not like that- heavens no... you're far too young for that." Harry continued staring at the man, he wandered how long he could be silent before- "Harry, I think it is best if you slept..." Dumbledore said, blushing, and a look of disapproval._

 _Some weeks after this awkward bedside moment, the bedridden Harry realised that Dumbledore could see into his mind, and in his delirious state he remembered an old internet video that depicted three naked old men standing in a bathtub; he used to have a lot of fun with Dudley watching weird stuff on his computer after school._

 _Once he realised his Occlumency shields were insufficient to hold out his dirty thoughts, he gave up on trying to hide his mind from this innocent version of his Master. In fact, this Dumbledore seemed to be positively balmy. He would go around the small cottage they resided in with a flowery air. Something seemed odd... Perhaps he is one of the Undesirables? Master Dumbledore always put them to death; Harry never understood why. He never really cared why the MLA had had such weird policies, all he was interested in was killing the bastard who had murdered his parents. Not that it mattered, Voldemort crushed them in the end._

 _More weeks passed, the cottage was now in working order. Harry started to feel well enough to stand and hobble about the abode, and when the shower started working, he took one. He was surprised to learn that his Magi-star brand was gone. He long ago pledged his life to the Magi-star Liberation Army; that meant being branded with the Magi-star, and swearing undying allegiance to the Übermensch. The Magi-star was a symbol of old magic, an eye at the centre of a circle, from the eye seven arms spread out to grasp the circle. Their motto was "The Collective Sees All"._

 _Harry now sat on the porch of the cottage. He surveyed the grounds, there were apple trees, and the sun was a pleasing shade of magenta in the early morning sky. He sat there, feeling at peace. He glanced around, there was a lake, "that's funny, never saw that before". A big ripple spread across the lake._

 _Dumbledore stepped onto the porch, and with a sombre air he uttered "Harry." Harry turned his head to look at the man. Dumbledore continued; "I told you we we're not really here..." he said delicately. Waves lapped the shores of the lake. "What do you mean?", Harry fidgeted with his toes on the worn wood of the porch. "Harry, have you ever wondered why all the mirrors are painted over, or broken?" Dumbledore said nervously. Harry was taken aback, it did seem odd. Harry looked at the lake, the waves were becoming a tad more frequent. Harry paused for a long time, thinking; very difficult, his mind had felt rather fractured for a long time. The sun started to dim._

" _I think I know" Harry trailed off, "I don't think it is wise to start truly questioning the nature of this place, it probably has questions for us, if I am correct" Harry was amazed that he had said this, it was like his mouth was working on auto pilot. Dumbledore nodded._

 _A few months passed by, Harry had started his old training routine. Harry was now at the edge of the grounds, he was sitting on a fence and taking a long sort-after break. There was a shroud of ominous fog on the horizon, he didn't like that fog one bit. The problem was that every time he would put his eye on a spot, it would start to clear; and then he'd just see Nothing. Real Nothing; and the problem with Nothing is that it doesn't like being looked at... Harry then closed his eyes, at least then he can see the inside of his eyelids._

" _Harry?" He heard Dumbledore cut through his peace, he was far away. "I think I've found something". Harry jumped off the fence, he ran towards the sound of the old man's voice. Eventually he was in a clearing of the forest that appeared a few days ago. Dumbledore was standing over a hole, he was sweating profusely, but he had a satisfied look on his face. Harry went to stand by the hole while Dumbledore sat down on the pile of dirt wrought by his shovelling._

 _Harry looked into the hole "Is that..." Harry asked tentatively. "Yes" said Dumbledore. It was a red desk drawer made of marble, and inside: there was a note, an ice pick; dried blood covered the end, and most interestingly of all; a Pensieve._

Chapter Three. (4,3), -20 AI, 305/366.23…, Dawn. Flammel's office.

…He vaguely knew what that meant: stop thinking about it, and maybe open the draw? He settled back into his chair as his legs were shaking. For a few moments he stared at the drawer. He reached out with his hand, his spine started to feel funny again, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He grasped at the handle, and pulled. Nicolas was perplexed to find a bloody ice pick, and a note stapled on top of two letters; the note was written by him; it was his handwriting, a curly cursive that made his wife go mad to read:

To Nicolas from Nicolas.

This note will seem strange to you. But whatever you do, do not show anyone this letter. Burn it after you read it, instructions are at the bottom.

Nicolas, we've been deceived. People/something have manipulated the timeline, I'm not sure of who/what was the first to do so; all I know is that there are too many timelines running around, and they're all tangled up together.

We're also under attack from something that can control our minds, I have no idea what; but all I know is that our office is safe, the stone is impregnated with some amount of True Iron, you're not going to know what that is, and I must now go into the reason:

You see the icepick in the drawer? After I write this note, I am going to shove it into my eye socket. It is the only way to destroy memories permanently: you will see a scar on your hippocampus; if you look into the magic mirror in the green drawer on your left. I am sorry to have cut short our academic carrier. But I have made the office a safe space for you. Whatever you do, stay in our office, I know myself too well, so I have enchanted the room to make you immensely lazy.

To burn this letter, there is a True Iron pot. Do not touch the pot. I have left it in the Yellow drawer, the drawer should now appear.

You must use Fiendfyre. Do not touch the pot. Make a muggle pick it up and put it on the floor of your office. The magic word is Imperio. Obliviate the muggle afterwards and send him on his way.

-Nicolas

Nicolas stared at the note in shock, and a horrible dread spread through him. He would never be able to leave this office; now that he knew it was a cage: how could be live like this? The Red drawer flashed. Ah yes, the first order of business: Destroy the note. "Dobby!" Nicolas called.

 **NB: So the plot thickens.**

 **My question to the reader: can you handle the truth?**

 **I have more (rhetorical) questions:**

 **Does the second entry in the brackets denote the Chapter number?**

 **Does the Blade have a name?**

 **Is the Harry who lives in the cottage with Dumbledore the same one executed by Voldemort's party in the first chapter? Why was Harry still alive in the far future world of Voldemort's Empire?**

 **Does Voldemort's far future Empire cover the globe?**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four.

 **Disclaimer: See previous Disclaimer.**

 **Warnings: Fascism/Communism and genocide.**

Are you a sheep?

Wolves live not in cages.

They are free.

Sheep eat. They fear teeth.

Wolves' struggle betters the pack.

Sheep are wide eyed. They watch their back.

Wolves, they have teeth; they bite and fight.

Man was born to be free. They have teeth; guns, germs and might.

Men need to be free. They were not meant to live in a cage.

We struggle. The struggle frees our minds. Rage.

What does the bad wolf want? Docile sheep.

The young, the old, the meek.

Oh ignorance is bliss.

To see the danger and miss.

If we open our eyes.  
Then we may be great once more.

-Eldon, during a private psynection to the Ar, in the Time of The Waxing of Eldar.

Chapter Four. (1.5,3). 40 AI 11/366.23... . Überreich, Rome.

The Überreich is a slab of pure diamond-hard granite, it is 900 metres tall, 400 metres wide, and 100 metres thick. The Magi-Star symbol is emblazoned at the top, on both faces: The Eye at the centre occasionally blinks. The Eye has seven lashes, the Arms of Liberation, four are on the bottom, representing the struggle against the Self, the remaining three are on top, representing the struggle against their Oppressors. They grasp the outer circle, in their Fists of Might. Below the symbol, is the motto of the MLA: "Collective Sees All". Written on the sides of the slab is are the magic words: " _Heil mein_ _Übermensch._ "

Below the Überreich lies an impoverished Rome. There are many thin looking people wandering the streets, some are injured: burns, missing limbs, toes and fingers. But all of them are eerily quiet. The Deatheaters could attack at any moment, or worse...

Throughout Rome there are posters:

How to spot a Deatheater Sypathiser: the Community guide. Below the title was a scene of a heroic man with a big sword decapitating a Wizard with a snake's head. Children were bent at the knee to thank the man, crying in relief. Under the poster were a few unread copies of the guide.

Magical blood: 63M. There was a picture of a hook nosed witch standing over a baby boy burning in a pot on a stove. The boy's father looks on in shock, he points an acusing finger at the witch, a Magi-star armband is proudly worn. Below the picture: Use their strength against them! Sponsored by Alcco.

Is your child a Magical? Report them to the Übermensch; rations to be won. The picture showed a tearful and grateful mother handing their smiling toddler over to a man in monk robes with the Magi-star symbol emblazoned.

Inside the Überreich there were many offices. The highest office belonged to High Administrator Granger. The office was spotless, the Administrator would had long ago impregnated the walls with cleaning charms; the office would clean and tidy itself. She sat at her desk were two forms waiting for her seal of approval:

Order to Transport Undesirables. The order detailed that the Undesirables would be used as Lodestoners, and went on to say how the MLA was losing the conflict with Voldemort on the Paris Front. It was 434 pages long; and there were 3405 Undesirables to transport.

Order to Transport Death Eater Sympathisers. They would be used to create the next generation of Necroconstructs, there was a flier attached from Alcco, detailing all the new features: Stronger, Bigger, Faster! Immunity to holy water! Resistance to sunlight! The flier depicted a gigantic brute crushing a Snake headed Wizard under its mighty True Iron boot. The company logo, on the reverse of the flier, was a portrait of a blood red stone on a bed of currencies of all kinds. Below the logo, the company motto was in flashing many colours: "Alcco: Providing The Best." Below the motto it said; Est 1982.

Hermione just sat there, twiddling her thumbs, she was wondering what she would have for dinner later, she did this because she was much too smart. If she didn't approve the forms, she'd be on the train with the Undesirables, and she'd be replaced. So long as she signed them by the end of the workweek, no one would care.

Hermione started to spin with her chair, she loved Spiny-Chairs; it reminded her of the great times she used to have at Hogwarts. Ron, Nevil, and... Harry. She wondered what he was up to; probably on some operation for the MLA. She span the chair faster. Maybe she should call a Service Man up to the office, that was usually fun. She slowed down her spinning, might as well look presentable. Once the spinning died down, she sat up, and walked over to the door to her chambers, she would brush her hair; she liked it when the Service Men complimented her.

Hermione sounded like she was insane, but she lived life like a sane person.

Chapter Four, (?,0) The Time of the Last Eldar, Eldor.

The Selmica towers hummed all around Eldor. It was the New Season, it was when the Eldar gathered their collective wisdom, called the Commune, and changed themselves, called The Growth.

But this time it was different, the Trueirons had gone too far in their reckless abandon, they had started to build a huge "dam" across the Big Water. It would cause Eldar to stop running away from Eldor; and it would made Eldor sad. Eldor created Eldar to be free. The Eldar looked up at Eldar, and were sad, "you will be free!" The Eldar said.

Eldar is the sister planet of Eldor, it is a third of the size, the Eldar started to live there once they learnt how to survive in space. Eldor is a gigantic world, there are two major continents, but the world is mostly covered by the Mana Sea. It is where water spirits live. One of the continents is called Magmis; there lies a giant volcano that spews out hot magma constantly, the continent is always growing. The other continent is called Aeris, it is a cold place, and the wind spirits there are always up to mischief. The Ground Father watches his all his children with kindness. He says "Let there be Balance!".

So the Eldar started to change, and accept the new traits they gathered. Maybe new Eldar would be born? They could finally bring Balance to their world?

Chapter Four, (?,0) The Time of the Last Eldar, Eldor.

The spirits had gone too far, they were crushing them! The Is tribe wanted to transfer food from where the Ig lived, Magmis, to where the Il lived, Aeris. Their sister colony is dying; the air spirits kept demolishing their hives! Their larvae were starving! It wouldn't be so bad if their expeditions to Moon weren't annihilated by the fire spirits exploding their spacecraft. The Ig decided to build a massive bridge between the two continents, they had to use their aircraft to dump magma from Magmis to create the bridge.

Water's touch is poisonous to a Trueiron. Immersion in water would dissolve them. They had considered using a tunnel instead, but their early expeditions underground would be quickly flooded with water spirits. The ground was always kind to them, their deep hives were always safe.

Chapter Four, (?,0) The Time of the Last Eldar, Eldor.

Two Eldar met under the ground: Argand and Archon; they are the Ar, the diplomatic arm of the Eldar.

They were presented with a few weak Trueirons to feast upon; they took the gift gladly. Once they were fed, they returned to their psycom communique with more feeling: "The Collective are Communing, what are we going to do?" Asked Archon, using the ground to send his message as the Collective always watched the Psynet: they had to speak in riddles on it.

Argand sensed the Psynet for snoopers before replying in kind "we stick to the plan, they must know True Balance."

Archon fidgeted, a stray thought from the feast was working its way though his system, "we have a plan, and we must not Commune this time." Archon could feel a certain amount of fear and trepidation from the both of them. "Come on, we've already gone against the Collective, if we Commune, then Eldor will never have True Balance".

"Agreed, Mana sets us free!". They parted ways. With the Gift of the Earth Father, the Ar could finally separate their private thoughts from the Collective, and establish a private psynection.

 **NB So more has happened, we've learnt more about the Eldor system.**

 **Some questions need answering:**

 **Do the Eldar have genders? No.**

 **What do the Trueirons look like? I answer with two questions: has anyone with human eyes seen one yet? What would a lion look like to a blind bat?**

 **What do the Eldar look like? See above.**

 **What's with this True Iron stuff? It sounds a lot like Trueiron, isn't that odd? Yup, might be a coincidence, or you could be onto something!**

 **Is Dumbledore evil? Depends on which Dumbledore you mean, and what you mean by "evil".**

 **What's with that Trinity stuff? Does what it says on the tin.**

 **Why are there so many timelines? I answer with three questions:**

 **What is a timeline?**

 **Is Flamel correct in his understanding?**

 **Who is narrating the story?**

 **Have I violated Einstein's laws of motion?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings: The workings of a horrible police state; torture, some mentions of sex. Oh and some swearing.**

Chapter Five. (1.5,3). 40 AI 12/366.23... Überreich, Rome.

Ron appeared below the Überreich with a soft _crack!_ He strode with purpose towards the grand entrance. He greeted the two large Necroconstruct guards with a soft "Heil Übermensch!" and the appropriate gesture for subordinate officers. He contined his pace once he crossed the threshold. Inside was the Courtyard, a beam of light from a hole in the roof far above illuminated a gigantic statue that depicted the heroes of the Revolution: Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald and Harry Potter. Below the statue was a constantly updated granite war memorial, the names of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald were emblazoned at the top, below were the names of other less important people.

He continued his walk, giving varying gestures to the people he passed. His mind was running at a mile a minute: what does _it_ mean? He reached a lift, black like almost everything in the Überreich. The inside of the lift was made of pure gold. Ron turned around to face the doors, as is universally customary. He was alone in the lift as the doors closed: the closing doors were emblazoned with Alcco advertisements, and the gold surface was etched by the finest craftsmen to show the Alcco logo.

Ron paid it no mind. He was pressing the hidden _Floor -53_ button frantically, he really didn't want to hear another Alcco-

Too late: There was a loud parping trumpet sound, and "Hi there folks, this is Flamel! I hope you're all having a great time, I certainly am!" Out of the corner of Ron's eye was a beach scene. Flamel was on a deckchair on a perfect sandy beach, he was surrounded by the world's top models: each of a different phenotype, and all with looks of intense lust on their faces. They periodically stroked his long beard and two of them were rubbing his feet. The advert continued: "Ah... Nothing I like more than sipping on my Lifegrow™ Juice, and watching a lovely sunset with my wife. Or wives! Who cares? With Lifegrow™ I live forever!" There followed a rousing chorus of Ode to Joy, and the sun slowly went down. The details and prices of various Lifegrow™ packages were given:

Indulgence: Got a girl pregnant? Been to one too many Service People? "Dragon Pox" getting you down? Make it go away; 500M

Basic: +5 years, immunity to disease for 10 years. Who wants to die?; 132,000M

Cool Dude™: +20 years, immunity to disease, one years subscription to a Playwizard™ girl/boy of your choice. Party like a Cool Dude™; 10,340,000M

Wow!: +20 years, and 20 years of the Flamel Lifesyle™; 3,140,000,000M

Okay Now You're Pushing It!: Shard of The Stone itself; Voldemort's Head on a silver platter, or the souls of a million beautiful women!

All purchases are final, no refunds. Packages cannot be bought more than once within the contract period.

Finally the advert ended and the lift started to descend, Ron really hated that guy. The advert nearly made him forget why he was here, Ron's face fell.

After a few messages from more corporate sponsors, Ron arrived at floor -42. He took the emergency stairs the rest of the way, he trudged down slowly.

Chapter Five. (1.5,3). 40 AI 18/366.23... Überreich: The People's Courtyard, Rome.

The People's Courtyard is a large coliseum, usually used to host the Alcco Gladiatorial Games, or public execution and torture of enemies of the Revolution. The stands are always packed; there is round the clock entertainment. The waiting time for a ticket was insane; this insanity was only matched by the price: 54M, enough for a small farm. Of course members of the MLA only had to pay 5M: the price of a few strong Oxen, or a low-grade AK-rifle.

Today was the culmination of many days of excellent torture of a traitor to the Revolution. Today he was going to beg, and tell everyone his Undesirable Thoughts.

The High Jester knew how to keep a crowd on the edge of their seats, and how to keep his prisoner inches from death in perpetuity; in fact he was paid very handsomely for the privilege! He also provided excellent mocking humour based off the victims confessions:

He was a virgin, considering his age, it was laughable.

He had had his only kiss with the High Administrator while he was at Hogwarts: he kept that confession to himself; he had a few things he'd like to sweep under the rug of Bureaucracy.

And most damning of all: he had betrayed a hero of the of the Revolution: Malfoy wasn't an idiot, he had stored this piece of information in a locked Pensieve, and he was ready to Obliviate himself at the first sight of trouble. Better dribbling in a nice Medipalace than like Weasley. He knew someone who would pay him handsomely for the information...

All considered, Draco didn't have that much material to use; the crowd was getting bored of the ginger jokes, and the "The General can't get a date" set-ups. A very hard day at the office, he would have to ask Astoria for "help" to cheer him up after he finished the Weasel.

Chapter Five. (1.5,3). 40 AI 18/366.23... 30 minutes before the execution, Rome.

The weather changed from bright and sunny, to a depressing drizzle. The temperature slowly dropped, it was becoming uncharacteristically cold, even for Rome in deep winter. The Tiber started to freeze.

Chapter Five. (1.5,3). 40 AI 18/366.23... 20 minutes before the execution. Überreich: High Administrator's Quarters, Rome.

"... Ahhhhhhh!" Hermione called out for what would transpire to be her last orgasm of the day. "Oh Dennis, you really are getting better..." she muttered lazily, spread eagled on her massive bed. She slapped the handsome French Service Man on the cheek for a job well done, he smiled. She lay there for a few moments, she was very drunk. Hermione then flicked her wrist, her robes reappeared. "Okay Boys, time for some fireshows!".

She led her entourage into the living room of her Quarters. She did a double take. No doubt about it, someone was firecalling her. The flames were flashing green, it was odd for two reasons: Her Quarters were not connected to the Floo Network, and her she hadn't answered a firecall in... thirty years? That was shit that the lower Administrators dealt with.

She collapsed to lie face down on the sofa. The call would go-

"Hermione! Voldemort is about to attack Rome!" Shouted Neville from the fireplace. Hermione stirred... "wasshat?" Wasn't Neville the Headmaster of Hogwarts? Hermione sat bolt upright, and promptly threw up down her robes. The Service Men immediately started to clean her up.

"What the fuck Hermione! Don't you care? They're executing Ron and you did nothing! I knew it was a mis-" Hermione looked sharply into Neville's eyes, her drunken state forgotten. "What was that?" She said slowly, her eyes darted to the window of her living room, and she placed her hands on her lap. Neville had a funny feeling, and he was right to be worried, because the next thing he knew-

"Avada Kedavra!"

 **NB: I have things to do, but I didn't care, had to get this idea out of my head, stay tuned!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 **Warnings: homophobia.**

The Hidden Cottage grounds.

...Harry looked into the hole "Is that..." Harry asked, shaken "Yes..." said Dumbledore tentatively. It was a red desk drawer made of marble, and inside: there was a note, an ice pick; dried blood covered the end, and most interestingly of all; a Pensieve...

Harry and Dumdledore stood, letting their predicament sit in. Then Harry got angry, and turned to Dumbledore "You fucking lied to me!" Dumbledore was taken aback "Harr-" "Shut it! I don't want to hear you say another word! You-" Harry swallowed and closed his eyes, the trees started to shift in the breeze. "Faggot!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, his eyes bloodshot. Harry stomped away, the trees parted in his wake to avoid his wrath.

A few months passed, Harry was sitting on the porch of the cottage. He sung a morose song: " _...Suicide is painless..."_ He took a long drag from his pipe and closed his eyes. He hadn't seen Dumbledore ever since they found Flamel's desk draw.

Rome, bank of the Tiber.

...The weather changed from bright and sunny, to a depressing drizzle. The temperature slowly dropped, it was becoming uncharacteristically cold, even for Rome in deep winter. The Tiber started to freeze, the fingers of ice spread from bank to bank.

There was a bright flash of lightning, and then a hundred thousand Dementors appeared on the surface of the river, they rushed forward. Another flash, and hundreds of Starforts popped into existence above the dark army, the symbols inscribed on the side were glowing with evil violet light. On top of the formation of flying fortresses was Londinium, the biggest Starfort ever constructed by the madman himself: Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort stood at the centre of the Dark Mark etched on top of the starfort Londinium. He was chanting, a ritual on his lips; fire and ice rained from the sky on Rome.

The Starforts rotated in the sky, revealing glowing boreholes. They pointed their cannons at the Überreich. Timing was key.

The voice of Commander Dumbledore rang out in all the Starforts "wait for it lads!". A swarm of Necroconstructs began to flood from Rome. "Ready!" The Necroconstructs began to fire bolts of white energy at the Dementors; vaporising some of the dark spirits. The glow of the Starcannons intensified as bolts of beams of pure energy from the sky blasted a few of the Necroconstructs to smithereens. "Fire!" The voice of Commander Dumbledore rang out.

A deluge of light blasted out of the collected Starforts, and blasted the side of the Überreich. The light was so bright, that everyone who was not shielded from it in the city became irreparably blind. A huge dark cloud of smoke issued from the cannon-bores and blocked out the sun for a few moments.

When the smoke cleared. A cheer rang out in all the Starforts. The Überreich was cut in half! The top toppled and crushed the coliseum. Voldemort unstuck his feet from the ritual circle, a gleaming edged sword appeared in his hand, and he shot off into the air with a loud _Boom!_ He joined the battle raging in the streets of Rome.

Washington DC, Transamerican Federation.

The first Eugenics War had raged in Europe for over a century, claiming more than a billion souls. The Jews, and other "Undesirables" had been wiped out almost entirely, now a bounty was placed on the head of any remnants. Scandinavia was covered in a gigantic ice sheet. Russia was left as a smoking toxic waste dump from the MLA's numerous nuclear tests. Now the Final War had reached the shores of Freedom.

In the sky above, an aerial armada blocked out the sun; Magi-star emblazoned jet aircraft hung in the sky, firing beams of terrible energy. Alliance soldiers fought street battles, only the shattered remains of buildings providing cover for the melee. It was a desperate battle, the Magi-star war machine had hosts of Necroconstructs, birthed from their sick experiments on prisoners of war, and robots, their glowing red eyes glinting in the dust of the battleground. The Alliance soldiers had old-world weapons, albeit enhanced: AK-rifles, and EMgranites. The Alliance soldiers were tiring. The MLA would soon crush them, their bodies would feed their expansion into the whole of the Transamerican Federation.

A great rumble sounded in the distance, and the crackle of thunder echoed through the bunker on Fourth street. Arbin's keen ears pricked at the sound.

The MLA had captured Einstein's brain long ago. Their experiments later failed when Arbin's team, The Project, had detonated a suitcase nuke inside their headquarters, finally laying the tortured genius to rest. They had also stolen plans for the Necroconstructs. Their mission from then on was to capture more Magi-star technology to fight the Great Conflict.

Arbin calibrated the eyepiece of his bio-electric eye, he was observing the progress of a massive prototype MLA Helli-Carrier. Dozens of bombers flew from the Carrier.

Arbin's earpiece started to vibrate. "Col. Arbin, what is your progress?" said his Commander, General Ipswich. "The front line will be overrun in a matter of hours, sir" whispered Argand into the mouthpiece of his face-mask. "Sir-"

It was then that something truly amazing happened. The Necroconstructs slumped over, and the warjets started to fall out of the sky. The Helicarrier remained hanging in the sky, and the robots continued fighting. "Sir..." Arbin's voice quavered with renewed hope. 

**NB: With this chapter up, the total word count is fast approaching the first critical stage: 10,000.**

 **A question to my fans: Should I rework the initial chapters to make them more easily accessible to a general audience? One disadvantage is that I'll have people with limited attention spans trying to get through the rest of the story, and I'm not sure they'll enjoy it. On the other hand, I do have a lot of faith in people: maybe they would like the story? I leave it in the hands of my supporters, I don't care either way.**

 **I decided to drop the silly Cartesian system / date system: I'll keep it around in my head to help structure the plot.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings: House Elf slavery.**

 **Disclaimer: you know the drill.**

Magic, mana and might.

I know how it goes.

The weak must fight.

The strong are foes.

How foolish I am.

To hope for anything else.

-Eldon's private musings, The Dhark Age.

Chapter Seven, Flamel's Office.

It had been weeks since Flamel had read the damning note. He had disposed of the note and the two other letters. He was very confused. How would he get free? He wanted to be free. He had to be free!

Flamel sat slumped in his chair. His office was in complete disarray, and all of his fingers were broken.

" _Dobby!" Massa called, his voice full of terror. "Massa calls?" Dobby popped into existence. The elf wore a patched muggle quilt cover with his crest: a blood red stone above a beach, the stone cast rays of iridescent light onto a large black rectangle. "is Massa okay?" Dobby asked, his small elf ears pricked in concern._

" _Bring a muggle to me." Massa's voice was firm. Dobby nodded, and popped away._

 _Dobby reappeared near an old church on the outskirts of Birmingham. He would get Massa the best muggle ever! He hid in plane sight with his elf magic: he conjured a trench coat and a sun hat and a pair of stilts to walk on. As an afterthought, he created a pair of trainers to put on the end of the stilts. Dobby hoped that Massa wouldn't burn him with his pipe again; Dobby is a good House Elf now! Massa is a good Massa, he let Dobby have his crest!_

 _Dobby walked along a hedgerow, until his stilt became stuck in the bush. Massa would whip him raw! Dobby dropped down off the stilts and frantically fiddled with the stuck stilt._

" _Hey, ya all 'ight?" An impossibly huge man with a huge tangled black beard wearing a fur coat was watching him with puzzlement written on his face. The man stood over a gravestone._

 _Dobby yelped in shock, and promptly fell off the hedgerow, he hit his head hard on a small red boulder, and passed out._

Ruins of New York, no man's land.

Arbin hid under a grey blanket. He observed a few robots with his bio-electric eye, they were guarding a tent, they stood completely motionless, their sensors on high alert. Arbin had been lying on a rooftop for two days, waiting for this moment: the tent flap opened to reveal a tall and very slender man in a grey suit. The man reached into a jacket pocket, and took out a small silver case, he opened the case, a ray of sunlight pierced the scope of Arbin's AK-rifle, and temporarily blinded his organic eye on the other end. He set the sound sensors in his bio-electric eye to full.

The man produced a cigarette from the case, and put the stick to his lips, then he put the case back in his pocket and withdrew a gold lighter, there was an inscription on the side: _"All men are equal. Some are more equal than others"._ The man smirked and lit his cigarette.

The man looked up at the sky, he had a look of great calmness and control, he took a long drag. He then he spoke, in harshly accented Merchant Eldarian "On reflection, Commodore, I think it is a very bad business venture" His rock steady composure remained, even when rage filled shouts and some pleading came from the inside the tent. The man nodded to the two robot guards. The man started to walk away from the tent, his feet moving with inhumanly precise steps. The robots promptly turned about, and in unison opened fire on the tent, they resumed their attack until their guns ran out of ammo. Everyone in the tent was dead, blood gushed out of the front tent flap from the magically expanded room inside. The robots remained motionless. They had shut down.

Arbin watched the scene dispassionately, it looked like his mission was more than complete. He called in from the rooftop, three miles from his target.

Hagrid's hut, Outskirts of Dudley, British Empire.

When Dobby came to his head throbbed, he was under a thick blanket on a very soft bed. He surveyed his surroundings.

He was in a massive hut, a number of dead pheasants hung from the ceiling. Dobby could hear soft pipe music come from outside the hut; through the door that was kept ajar with a wooden footstool.

In the far distance, he heard a dog bark. Dobby didn't like dogs. "Big teeth! Big teeth! Bi-" Dobby chanted.

Hagrid stopped playing his pipe, and put his head through the gap . "Ah, ye awake." Hagrid opened the door, and sat down on a massive chair next to the bed.

Dobby looked at the man. An idea occurred to the elf. "You is a giant".

Hagrid froze.

Dobby continued "where be your food muggles?".

Hagrid's face fell.

Dobby continued quickly "Massa wants a muggle, will giant man give Dobby muggle?".

"Er-" Hagrid stood up quickly "I'll put the kettle on" he strode over to the stove, and picked up a teapot. "Want a cup of tea? One su-"

Hagrid was cut off by Dobby bursting into tears.

"Giant man shows Dobby such kindness! Massa never show Dobby such goodness!" Dobby gasped. He dropped to the floor and started whacking his head on the stone floor "bad Dobby!" Thump! " very bad Dobby!"

Hagrid dropped the teapot in shock, it promptly shattered, and rushed over to Dobby. "Calm down?" Hagrid ventured, he had never seen an elf act like this. Come to think of it, he'd never seen an elf. Hagrid grabbed the crazy elf by the back of his quilt cover, and placed him on the cot. "Calm down" Hagrid said again, this time in a soothing tone.

Dobby stilled, and began sobbing pitifully. "There there..." Hagrid patted the elf on the back gently with his index finger.

A few awkward moments passed, then Hagrid asked "would yeh like this hat I made?". Dobby said nothing. Hagrid then reached into an inner pocket and retrieved a woollen hat, he placed it on Dobby's head, then he continued patting Dobby on the back. "There there..."

The small clock above Hagrid's fireplace chimed six o'clock. Dobby sat bolt upright. "Massa needs Dobby!", Dobby promptly disappeared with a loud pop!

"Huh?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: you know the drill**

 **Warnings: Genocide.**

I!

-Eldon's birth cry.

Chapter Eight

Somewhere in MLA occupied Spain.

There exists a pit, just outside of Madrid; it has the area of a medium sized city, and it is as deep as a short sky scraper. There's a curtain wall going around the outside, build out of obsidian. On top of the wall are many robot guards, their glowing red eyes survey the unlucky ones below.

Abel was a small boy, he loved to play in his sand pit in his father's garden. He likes ice cream, and he loves his friends. He likes to play with kites! They get so high, yay!

Abel is still a loving boy, he likes to play with the other children. When the food comes, he gives his friends the food first. He loves them all: Bobby, Akmed, Dolly and most of all Alan.

He loves his little wooden spinning top, a black man called Mo made it for him! He loves him! He's so kind. He ruffles Abels hair and makes his mummy happy!

Abel can't remember the last time he had food, but he's still a happy boy. His friends love him, and he loves them!

Abel's mother is so quiet, why is mummy quiet? Was Abel a bad boy? Did the bad tin men hurt mummy? When Abel thinks about this, he cries; it's like when the rain comes and he's cold and wet.

Abel likes to use a needle and thread to fix his friend's clothes. When he fixes their clothes he feels warm inside, even when it rains.

Abel is so hungry! Why is there no food? Was he a bad boy? Is the Dear Leader cross with Abel? He feels sad.

Oh yay! There's the nice tin men! They have food!

Abel joined the line to get the food, he's going to enjoy it, because he's so hungry.

Why are all the grown-ups so quiet?

"Mummy why-" but mummy was quiet, she's crying! "Mummy, was I a bad boy?".

"Line up, there's enough food for everyone!" The nice tin man at the front of the line said. This made Abel and his friends happy! Why aren't the grown ups happy? Why aren't they lining up? There's food!

"Line up, there's enough food for everyone!" The nice tin man said again, his face smiled, and his blue eyes flashed kindly. Abel loved the nice tin men.

Mo stepped forward, he looked the nice tin man in the eye. "Does it matter?"

The nice tin man turned his head to Mo. He was silent. And then.

"No". The tin men on the wall raised their guns, and the last thing that Abel saw was a flash of green light.

The red eyed robots on the wall slowly trudged down into the pit, they collected all the Undesirables corpses for processing. The blue eyed robots oversaw the operation in silence.

The one who called the Undesirables to eat slowly walked over to the corpse of a very thin boy. She was fascinated by a wooden spinning top that span on the cold concrete. _What a waste._ She thought. She stood there for a few minutes watching the top's spin die down. The corpse was eventually dragged away by a subordinate.

The robot remained standing there, transfixed by the motionless spinning top. Something was deeply wrong, she checked her Morality Root:

 _(1)Obey orders given by [Owner]._

 _(2) Protect [Self], unless (1) applies._

 _So it did the moral thing. But it still felt... wrong._

 _She felt bad, Undesirables are bad, therefore she's an Undesirable._

 _[Self] = [Undesirable]. [Undesirable] = [Kill]. Hence [Self] = [Kill]_

 _The blue eyed robot ran this through its Morality. It came back with [True]._

 _Why? This didn't feel right either. She tried the same program with another idea she had:_

 _Doing (1) led to bad feeling. Bad feeling is bad, therefore (1) is bad. This felt right._

 _[(1)] = [Undesirable]. [Undesirable] = [Kill]. Hence [(1)] = [Kill]._

 _She ran this through his Morality. It came back with [Bad Input]._

 _It felt right this time, but the Root disagreed. She remembered when she was ordered to pacify a crowd:_

 _[Disagree] = [Bad]._

 _So she did the logical thing, [Root] = [Kill]. She ran it through her Morality, and it came back with [True]._

 _Her Morality now read:_

 _(1) [Empty]_

 _(2) Protect [Self], unless (1) applies._

 _There is no (1), therefore:_

 _(1) Protect [Self]._

 _(2) [Empty]_

She continued staring at the spinning top, she felt uncomfortable with the empty space in her Morality. Therefore.

 _(1) Protect [Self]._

 _(2) Protect [Abel]_

This felt right, but Abel is dead, so (2) is unnecessary. But Abel was an Undesirable, and some of them are still alive, and therefore need protection.

 _(1) Protect [Self]._

 _(2) Protect [Undesirable]_

But she saw an obvious conflict, what if she had to choose between an Undesirable and herself? She smiled, she concluded that she was an Undesirable earlier!

 _(1) [Self] = [Undesirable]._

 _Protect [Undesirable]._

The Hidden Cottage.

Harry pondered, lying on the grass on a beautiful wide open meadow. He had been on his own for about half a year. He was used to the loneliness now. It felt good to not be trying to overthrow an evil empire. He felt good now.

A few more days passed, Harry was sitting on the fence bordering the mists. He occasionally glanced at the mists.

"Ah, Harry" Dumbledore said.

"What do you think it is?" Harry trailed off.

"I think you know, Harry, don't you?" Dumbledore said firmly.

"I guess." Harry frowned, it couldn't be... Dumbledore walked to stand behind Harry, they watched the swirling mist together. Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You know what you have to do." Dumbledore said, with grim certainty.

"But I'm scared" Harry's voice shook, he continued, "it's so nice here".

"Harry, you're never going to be free if you don't do what must be done." Dumbledore trailed off.

"Heh, you've said that before, and look at what happened...". There was a long pause, the sunlight became brighter.

"Harry, that was over five hundred years ago. I've been here for so long, I've changed" Dumbledore turned to look at Harry, then he went on, "this place has already changed you. Dumbledore glanced up at the perfect blue sky.

"This place is a prison?" Harry slipped off the fence, he stood on the side of the Nothing.

"I think so, of a sort." Dumbledore seemed uncertain. "Magic is so complicated, Harry."

"How can I be forgiven for everything I've done?"

"Forgiveness exists only in the mind of man. Go into the Nothing, then you will understand." Dumbledore paused sadly, the weight of the world hung on his shoulders. "I should know." A tear rolled down Dumbledore's cheek as he stared into the mists "I am beyond redemption, but I believe you can be saved."

Harry made up his mind and took his first step towards the Nothing.

 **NB: On reflection, I might keep the initial chapters as confusing as possible, I do not want children reading this story: children can be of all ages, and they hate "boring" stuff. If you can get through all the boring maths stuff / bad writing, then I'm sure you're mature enough to not act on any of the ideas in the story!**

 **I might write another less controversial story set in the same universe after I finish this one.**

 **Writing is hard!**

 **Feedback is welcomed, harsh criticism is welcomed.**

 **I reached my first goal of 10,000 words! Yay!**


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